


Shock the Monkey

by TheResurrectionist



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Green Lantern - All Media Types, Justice League - All Media Types, Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: Abuse of Hal Jordan's potential as a serious character, Bat Family, Batdad, Crack Treated Seriously, Dad Bruce Wayne, Fluff and Crack, Gen, Hal Jordan vs All the Batkids, Nerf Gun Fights, Paintball, Sibling Rivalry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2018-10-20 17:56:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10667829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheResurrectionist/pseuds/TheResurrectionist
Summary: Hal Jordan babysits the Batfamily for a day. It goes about as well as expected.





	Shock the Monkey

**Author's Note:**

  * For [batwayneman](https://archiveofourown.org/users/batwayneman/gifts).



> Thanks to batwayneman for the help plotting and holding my hand! You're the best!

"Swanky digs."

It's the first thing out of his mouth, which isn't a good sign. Nerves had a way of doing that to him--taking coherent, rational thoughts, and transforming them into word vomit.

"Not that--not that swanky is bad," Hal gestured vaguely, "I meant it in the good way, you know? _Swanky_."

The older gentleman continued to stare at him, a hand braced against the wide door. He was dressed in an old-fashioned butler's outfit, a thin moustache on his upper lip.

"I would hope so, sir."

"I'm going to admit, I didn't think he had a butler," Hal admitted, shifting awkwardly from his casual lean against the doorjamb. "I am at the right address, right? This is, uh, _his_ house? You know what I'm talking about?"

"I haven't the foggiest," the butler said, with a poker face so perfect, it could only be Batman's house. He gestured inside the gigantic door with a gloved hand. "Please, come in."

Hal followed the man through the foyer _,_ which was larger than his entire apartment building. The dark wood paneling had him craning his head upwards, eyes skittering over decades of priceless art. Oriental carpets covered the polished floors, muffling his footsteps. It was eerily quiet.

"Kinda creepy," he muttered to himself, trailing behind the butler. A polite cough had him slamming to a stop. "Uh….yeah?"

"Wait here, please," the butler said, arching an eyebrow. The _don't touch anything_ was implied rather heavily, but Hal's fingers still itched to grab something, if just to piss the Bat off a little more. "I'll return promptly with Master Wayne."

"Sure," Hal said, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "No problemo."

_Oh god, what am I doing?_

He whistled under his breath, glancing around the gigantic Manor with some apprehension. Was this how Wayne had grown up? Waited on hand and foot in some oversized doll house?

"This is going to be fine," he told himself, ignoring the urge to walk carefully out of Wayne's house without getting dirt on his carpets. "It's only for a few hours. How bad can a bunch of kids be, any--Jesus _fuck_!"

Hal's ring lit up as a shadow leapt past his head, throwing up a green bubble. A blur of black fabric tumbled to a stop in front of his feet, arranging itself into a...little person?

"Who are you?" the child demanded, brandishing an impressive-looking sword. Hal gaped as it was pointed at his chin, dumbfounded. " _Answer_ me!"

"I--I--" his hand dropped, the green glow fading. The sword was jabbed closer to his throat with a _tch_ noise _._ "Jesus christ, what are you, eleven? Put the sword _down,_ you're gonna hurt someone!"

"I'm _twelve,_ " the child hissed, taking a step forward. Green eyes stared at him, set between high cheekbones, dark hair framing olive skin. "And hurting people is the _point,_ interloper. Now answer me. What are you doing in Father's house?"

"Whoa whoa whoa," Hal said, putting up a "timeout" symbol with his hands. "I'm the _babysitter,_ alright? I'm supposed to be here. Who the hell are you?"

The kid straightened a little, sniffing. "My name is Damian _Wayne._ Heir to the Dark Kn--"

"Oh my god, you're Wayne's _kid_? Like, his actual kid?" Hal took a step back on principle, feeling his hand clench around his ring. "You're kinda, uh, small for twelve, aren't you?"

"I'm going to stab you now," Damian informed him matter-of-factly, stepping forward. "You--"

"Damian, put the sword _down_!"

Hal looked up as another blur tumbled down the stairs, somersaulting off the railing of the stairs to land next to them. A dark-haired teen placed himself in front of Damian's sword, hands on hips.

"Tim still has a stab wound from last week," the teen admonished, gesturing with a finger. "Did you really think we were going to let you have your sword back already?"

"No," Damian said sullenly, his earlier bravado deflating a little. His glare was vicious. "But this _intruder_ broke into our house, and I acted preemptively to protect this family."

"Great," the teen said, poking at the sword until Damian dropped the point to the floor. A quick spin, and then Hal was face to face with a brilliant pair of blue eyes and a wide smile. "Dick Grayson. It's nice to meet you, Hal."

Hal shook his hand slowly, a little numb. _Nightwing,_ he guessed, mind racing.

"How did you...how did you know who I was?"

"Bruce has a file," Dick waved off towards the stairs vaguely. "And by file, I mean more like six boxes, but don't think about that. Did Alfred go somewhere?"

"No clue," Hal said dumbly, glancing between Damian and the still-open door. "I'm just...waiting here, I guess."

"Cool," Dick said, and he sounded like the kind of person who actually meant it when he said that. "Why don't I grab the rest of the family? I'm sure they wanna meet you. They've met everyone else in the League, I think."

"Rest of the…" Hal trailed off as Dick bounded away, frowning. "There's more of you?"

"Only me," Damian said, crossing his arms with another indignant sniff. "I am his one true son."

"I'm starting to get the resemblance a little," Hal sniped, getting a vicious glare for his trouble. _Good to see that trait didn't skip a generation._ "Maybe more than a little."

"Hey, it's the glow stick!"

Hal turned towards the new voice, hackles rising. _Oh, it's on like Donkey Kong--_

A man taller than him stared back from the banister, a leather jacket thrown over a dark red shirt. He had darker skin, like Damian, but his eyes were an eerie green-almost fluorescent in the low light. A streak of white ran through his black hair.

"Okay, to start, nobody asked you, Hot Topic," Hal said, glaring, "And, second of all, fuck you."

The newcomer blinked. He crossed his arms, showing off impressive biceps. "Wow, he talks, too."

"You're damn right I talk," Hal said, his mouth running away from him, "I'll talk all day. Who the hell are you supposed to be? Adam Lambert?"

The man snorted, walking over to Damian. He mussed the kid's hair, getting a death glare in return. Hal suspected he would have lost a hand if he pulled the same stunt. "Says the guy who looks like a B-roll Sears model."

Hal felt his jaw drop, spluttering to find an answer. "You--you--"

"Jason!" Dick appeared at his side, grabbing his arm before he could pounce on the grinning asshole. "Stop egging him on!"

 _Jason_ raised an eyebrow, looking Hal up and down with a devilish grin. "Does Polly want an apology?"

"Fuck you!"

" _Hey!_ " this time Dick threw his entire body in between them, barely shoving Hal back enough to stop him. "Jason, that's _enough_! You wanna explain to Bruce why his babysitter's bruised?"

"Hey, wait a fucking minute. First of all, I'm _nobody's_ babysitter," Hal jabbed a finger at the other man, "This is a _favor._ And you couldn't _touch_ me, Fall Out Boy."

"Wanna bet?" Jason asked, a dark grin curving across his face. Hal narrowed his eyes, gripping his ring tighter. "Bruce says--"

"I wouldn't finish that sentence."

The entire room fell silent. Hal turned slightly to see Wayne in dress pants and a crisp white shirt, a newspaper in one hand, a mug of coffee in the other. He looked up from the financial page, gaze narrowing on Hal.

"Jordan," he said, pausing. Hal shifted nervously under the Bat's gaze, fists clenching. "...Don't break anything. We'll be back by eleven."

"Father," Damian interrupted, raising a hand. He'd hidden the sword behind one leg. "The man watching us is weak. Are you certain he belongs in the Justice League?"

Hal bit down _hard_ as Jason burst into laughter. Dick put a hand over his mouth, looking away. Even the butler seemed vaguely amused, if the twitch of his lips gave anything away.

"I want him intact by the time I return," Wayne instructed, ignoring his son's insistent hand. "Understand?"

Damian nodded seriously. Dick hid a grin. Jason merely raised an eyebrow.

"Great." Hal nearly toppled over as Wayne slapped his shoulder, _hard._ "Good luck, old sport."

Hal spluttered as he and the butler made for the front door, questions flashing through his mind. "I--you--okay, I read the _Great Gatsby_ in high school, alright? I know when you're making fun of me!"

Wayne didn't turn around, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like _you can read?_ as he closed the door. Hal felt his tri-daily urge to punch the other man in the jaw subside a little, breathing in slowly.

"Alright," he said, turning to face the kids, "So I fucked up and pissed off Batman. Somehow, he thought this was adequate punishment--"

"You have _no_ idea," Jason muttered.

"--and, the moral of this story is, we're all going to get along just fine." Hal said, ignoring the interjection. He looked at Dick. "This is everyone, right?"

"Uh...no."

* * *

"Drake,"

Tim grunted, not looking up from the computer. "What do you want, Damian?"

"I am proposing a strategic alliance."

"An...alliance."

"Yes."

"Against who?"

"The Green Lantern, Hal Jordan," Damian pronounced the name with a slight sneer. Tim rolled his eyes. "It is imperative that we drive him from the premises. He is not worthy of watching us."

"You're just mad Bruce got you a babysitter," Tim said, typing another long line of code. He finished his keystroke and looked up. "Wow...you're...actually serious."

Damian had a sword in one hand, a nerf gun in the other. He was wearing his Robin costume, an extra layer of body armor thrown across the top.

"I am deadly serious."

"How do I know you're not going to just run to Dick and double-cross me?"

"Simple," Damian said, hefting his nerf gun. "We take him out too. I already have Todd on my side. They won't stand a chance."

Tim looked from the nerf gun to his computer, then sighed.

"Fine. You're on."

* * *

"Okay," Hal said, feeling his resolve weaken a little. "Let me get this straight. So, you've got a sister--"

"Cassandra," Dick supplied, nodding along. Behind him, Jason snorted, leaning against some priceless painting with little concern. "She's upstairs."

"--one sort-of sister--"

"Stephanie, but don't let her hear you call her that--"

"--another brother--"

"Timmy's in the cave right now, actually," Dick said. "We should probably grab him; I don't think he's been up in like, three days."

Hal paused, processing this wordlessly. "...alrighty then. And then you've got Damian--"

"Demon brat." Jason corrected.

Hal pointed at him. "Shut up, 30 Seconds to Mars. Are you the babysitter here?"

"Nope," Jason said, popping the _p._ His hand drifted under his jacket, adjusting something that looked suspiciously like gun holsters. "Just a good samaritan, warning you to get out while you can."

Hal ignored him. "So, that makes...six of you?"

"Wow, he can do math, too!"

Dick shushed his brother. "Ignore him, he was dropped on his head as a child--"

"--yeah, by _you--_ "

Hal rolled his eyes. "No wonder you can't shut up."

"Watch it," Jason warned, crossing his arms. "You're gonna get on my bad side."

"You have a good side?"

Jason quirked an eyebrow. "You'll pay for that, glowstick."

"What are you gonna do?" Hal asked, ignoring Dick's facepalm to his left. "Angst me to death?"

Jason's answering smile was eerie. Hal felt his stomach drop a little as the other man reached into his pocket, retrieving a small microphone.

"Target is a go; fire at will."

"Whoa," Hal put a hand up, "Wait a fucking second. Is that a--"

A loud clattering began on the staircase as Jason dove out of the way.

"ATTACK!"

* * *

"Did you hear that?"

Cassandra shrugged from her position on the bed, her feet kicked up against the headboard.

_Thump. Thump._

"No, seriously," Stephanie said, uncrossing her legs. She stood from the bed, walking towards the door. "Is that...screaming?"

Cassandra shrugged again, as if to say _what else is new?_

"Right," Stephanie sat back down, grabbing her magazine. "Oh yeah, didn't Bruce say he was having one of the JL members come over to babysit?"

Another loud _thump_ shook the room. Cassandra's eyes opened fully as the sound of rapid-fire nerf gun shots reached them.

"Maybe they need reinforcements," Stephanie mused, locking eyes with Cass. "You still got that extra--"

The other girl reached into her boot, pulling out two nerf handguns.

"I don't know why I even bothered asking," Stephanie said, grabbing her rifle from under the bed. "Alright. Ready to go?"

Cass grinned.

* * *

"No, really, Carol, you're not listening--"

Hal dove out of the way as Jason actually _backflipped_ out of a room, a gun in either hand. Orange darts whistled past his head as he whipped a construct up. Down the hall, he could hear Damian's war cry start up again, which meant he'd either found more bullets, or Hal was _screwed._

"I can't find like three of the kids--you're doing _down,_ Jason!" Hal roared as a bullet hit him between the eyes, nearly dropping the phone. He quickly threw together a nerf machine gun at his feet, diving behind the small covering fire it provided. "One of them has a sword, and I think the other one is making a blowtorch--"

He ducked as Damian leapt over the machine gun, throwing up his free hand just in time. The demon brat bounced off the green shield, landing on his feet, undeterred. He had a gun in either hand, like Jason, and his sword was strapped across his back.

"Accept your defeat," Damian said, brandishing the guns, "Surrender!"

" _Fuck_ no!" Hal said, scrambling backwards. In the corner of his eye, he could see Jason gearing up for another salvo and ducked just in time. " _CAROL!_ "

" _\--sure you're just overreacting,"_ she was saying in his ear, " _they're just kids, Hal. They want you to play with them, that's a good sign--"_

"THIS ISN'T PLAYING!" Hal nearly tripped on yet _another_ carpet as he strategically retreated towards what looked like a bathroom. He ducked behind the wall, slamming the door behind him. "THEY'RE TRYING TO KILL ME!"

" _Hal, you're such a drama queen--_ "

The sound of darts thudding against the door startled him enough to drop the phone. He abandoned it in favor of propping up the door with another construct, kicking his feet against it for good measure.

The thudding stopped. For a moment, the hallway was silent. Hal felt a grin slide across his face.

"Is that all you _got_?!"

The window behind him shattered. Hal threw up his arms as glass scattered across the bathroom. A figure climbed onto the windowsill, a cape flowing in the breeze behind him.

"You're pretty bad at this, you know that?" Tim asked, a nerf machine gun tucked under one arm. He squinted behind the domino mask. "No wonder Bruce hates you."

" _Hey,_ " Hal said, sitting up. He kept the construct up on the bathroom door, watching Tim carefully. "You think I give a shit what Batman thinks about me?"

"Uh...yeah?"

Hal pushed him out of the window with a green hand. He got the momentary satisfaction of watching the brat fall before he constructed a second hand, catching him three stories below.

"Fuck," he said, looking around the empty bathroom. He scrambled for his dropped cell phone, shoving it against his ear. "Carol? Carol? _Carol?"_

A barrage of what sounded like _real_ bullets hit the door, sparking off his construct.

"Who's Carol?" Jason sing-songed from behind the door, "Your girlfriend?"

"Fuck you!" Hal yelled, ducking as bullets began to fire through the open window. "Tim, you ungrateful son of a bitch! I didn't have to catch you!"

"Watch your fucking mouth," Jason said through the door. "I'm the only one who gets to call him a little bitch, alright?"

Hal rolled his eyes, considering his options. An idea popped into his head suddenly, making him grin.

"I'm coming out," he warned, "You better get out of my way, or you'll regret it."

He swore he heard laughter as he braced himself, dropping the construct. A second later he launched himself out into the hallway, surrounded by a green bubble.

Jason's eyes widened a few feet away as Hal began to roll towards him, dropping his guns slightly.

"You're not going to seriously--"

He barrelled into the other man with a roar. Damian fired on him from across the hall, the bullets flicking harmlessly off the sphere.

Jason made a satisfying gurgling sound as he was run over, crumpled under the construct. He kept rolling for a few more feet, floating in the center of the bubble. The firing from across the hall ceased as the demon brat stared at him in awe.

"Guess what, short stuff?" Hal grinned at Damian, "You're next."

* * *

Bruce stretched out across the chaise lounge, adjusting his sunglasses. Across from him, Alfred was seated with a full afternoon tea set, scribbling in the answers to a crossword with a patient hand.

"Do you think Jordan's dead yet?"

Alfred peered over the spectacles perched on his nose.

"Why you insist on tormenting that poor man is beyond me."

"He ate my leftovers," Bruce said. He settled back in the lounger, closing his eyes. "They were labelled. He knew what he was getting into."

"Master Wayne, have you ever heard the expression 'let bygones be bygones'?"

"Nope," Bruce said, kicking his feet up. "I don't let things go easily."

Alfred returned to his crossword with a sigh.

"I hadn't noticed, sir."

* * *

"We need to fall back and regroup," Jason said quickly, ducking as glowing green darts shot past his head. He braced himself against the wall, firing blindly around the corner. "That green bubble is giving him way too much of an advantage."

"We need to get his ring off," Tim said, crouched next to his feet. He had a tablet in one hand, multiple security feeds displayed across the screen. "Damian, thoughts?"

"Send Cassandra," Damian responded from the floor, firing between Jason's legs, pressed against the carpet. "Jordan will let his guard down, and unwittingly provide ample time to retrieve the ring."

"Good idea," Jason muttered, firing until one of his guns clicked in his hand. He dropped it with a grunt. "Tri-point attack, alright? Where's Steph and Cass any--"

"NOW!"

Two figures dropped from the ceiling, landing behind the three brothers. Tim rolled out of the way as Stephanie began firing, a vicious-looking rifle cradled in her arms. Jason and Damian went down almost immediately, wincing as the scrambled for cover.

Cassandra caught Tim in the butt with a shot from one handgun as he crawled across the carpet. He yelped loudly, crab-walking towards the staircase.

"What are you doing?" Jason yelled, ducking behind a nearby bust as the two shot at him, "We're on your side!"

Cass looked at Steph, who shrugged, reloading with a click.

"No. We're not."

" _Fuck_!"

* * *

"Father, the situation is really dire enough to warrant your return--"

Bruce pinched his nose, resisting the urge to sigh. "I'm sure it's fine, Damian."

"We are _under attack,_ Father! War is being waged in the front hall! We require assistance!"

"Damian--" Bruce sat up, getting a _look_ from Alfred. "Just--Put Dick on the phone, okay?"

"Negative," Damian said, screaming echoing down the line. "Grayson left approximately one hour ago."

 _I'm sure that's a good sign._ "Give me a breakdown of your plan."

"I--we are attempting to retrieve his ring."

Bruce snorted. "And?"

"It is currently--unsuccessful--no, we are _not_ retreating, Drake, _we are almost out of ammo_!"

"Distract him," Bruce suggested, "Pretend to surrender, then go for the ring. If he has his guard down, he won't notice the ring's gone until it's too late."

"That is...acceptable," Damian said, sounding out of breath, "Thank you, Father."

Bruce hung up, feeling his lips twitch. A gin and tonic deposited itself in his hand. He looked up to see Clark smiling down at him, wearing a pair of boardshorts.

"Trouble at home?"

Bruce scooted over, giving the other man room to sit. "Nothing Jordan can't handle...yet."

Clark shook his head slowly, taking a sip from his glass.

"That poor, poor man."

* * *

"Oh yeah, you little bat bitches wanna rumba?" Hal cried, leaping over the banister. He flew the remaining distance to the first floor, deflecting another salvo of bullets. "Try sneaking up on us again! I dare you!"

He turned around, looking for Cass and Stephanie, but his unlikely allies had disappeared. The front hallway was silent; for the first time all afternoon, the Manor was quiet.

 _Don't panic,_ he told himself, lowering his feet to the floor. He padded across the carpet, watching the exits and entrances carefully. _They're probably just regrouping. Stay sharp._

A soft moaning sound reached his ears. He turned towards the noise, following it towards a small set of stairs. Wary, he peered inside.

Damian was lying across the bottom stair, face-down. He moaned softly, what looked like blood pouring down one side of his face.

 _It could be a trap,_ Hal warned himself, _if so, you're screwed. If not….you get to explain to Bruce how you let one of his kids get hurt._

"Damian?" he asked quietly, taking a step forward. "Damian, buddy, you alright?"

"My...arm…" the kid moaned, gesturing feebly with his chin. "I can't….move it. Hurts."

"Oh Jesus, alright," Hal rushed forward, falling to his knees. He rolled Damian over carefully, cradling his head. "You're gonna be okay, alright? You're gonna be fine, I'm sure it's nothing."

_Oh jesus, oh shit, oh fuck, what the hell do I do, what the fuck--_

He examined the kid's arm, looking for protruding bones. Gingerly, he ran his fingers up and down, pressing down slightly.

Damian grunted, startling him. He grabbed Hal's hand, stilling it. "Don't...hurts."

"Okay, I don't know if it's broken or not," Hal admitted, settling back on his heels. "Is there a doctor we can call, or do you want me to take you to the emergency…"

He trailed off as he looked down at his hand.

"Hey you didn't just take my--"

Damian flung himself backwards, rolling into a nearby doorway, a green ring clenched in one hand. Hal leapt forward with a roar, but it was too late. A door slammed between them, cutting him off.

"No!" Hal yelled, banging on the door, "No! Fuck! You little _shithead,_ I almost believed you!"

* * *

" _\--ring, alright? They're unhinged, okay? Sorry to break it to you. Tim disappeared, but he was muttering about blast radiuses, should I be worried? You don't have nuclear codes, right? That was just a rumor--no, you_ back off, Todd! _Hey--NO, DAMIAN, PUT THE FUCKING SWORD DOWN--Wayne, I'm begging you, I'll clean your toilets for a week, just come back--"_

Bruce put down his phone, deleting the voice message. Clark handed him another drink, which he accepted gratefully.

"Think we should go back?"

"He's only at six voicemails," Bruce said, shrugging. "He's not even desperate yet."

"They took his ring?"

Bruce nodded, looking off at the sunset. "I'm strangely...proud."

"They're going to eat him alive."

"I... _almost_ feel bad."

Clark shook his head slowly, leaning back beside him on the couch. "You're evil, you know that?"

"You love it." Bruce said coyly, getting a flick on his ear for his trouble. "Hey, this vacation was your idea."

"I don't know why we couldn't bring your kids along," Clark said, frowning. "It's not like you can't afford extra hotel rooms."

"Are you kidding me?' Bruce asked, gesturing at the picturesque sunset--palm trees blowing in the wind, the sun glinting off the brilliant blue of the ocean. "They would tear this place apart. _Something_ would be on fire by now."

"You're...probably right." Clark shook his head fondly, smiling at his husband. "Another drink?"

Bruce smiled up at him, sly.

"Are you trying to get me _drunk,_ Mr. Kent?"

* * *

"He's trying to barricade himself in the sitting room," Damian sniffed disdainfully, raising his nerf gun. "As if there aren't three entrances--and windows! His strategy skills are lacking."

"Shut the fuck up," Jason said, stretching out on the branch. He looked down the scope, lining up the crosshairs with Hal's head. "You're shaking the tree."

"Why did I have to accompany you into the tree? You left Drake behind!"

"Yeah, cause he has a job, okay?" Jason breathed in, focusing. "Alright...Timmy, you ready?"

"Affirmative." Tim's voice crackled in his ear. "Gimme a countdown."

"Three...two…" Jason increased the pressure on the trigger, "One."

Paint exploded across Hal's forehead, coloring him bright green. An outraged cry of pain drifted up towards the tree a moment later.

"Well, demon brat?" he asked, looking behind him. "Acceptable?"

Damian nodded curtly, but he was grinning.

"Acceptable."

* * *

Stephanie watched as Hal attempted to duck another paintball, for a moment, feeling defeat like a tangible presence. She turned to Cassandra, her unspoken question clear.

"Donuts?" Cass asked after a moment, looking hopeful. Stephanie grinned.

"Donuts it is." She barked out a laugh as Hal was hit directly in the groin, toppling to the floor with his hands on his crotch. "Let's leave the boys to their stupid games."

"Poor Hal," Cass said. "He'll die without us."

"Yeah but...donuts."

* * *

"--contact Oa, alright? My ring was taken! A fellow Green Lantern is down, Stewart!"

"Right," John Stewart said into the phone, frowning. The Watchtower hummed around him, oblivious to the panic in Hal's voice. "You want me to call in reinforcements from Oa because...you can't handle a bunch of kids?"

"They're BATMAN'S _KIDS_!" Hal yelled. "Did you hear me, Stewart? Isn't that explanation enough-- _fuck_! FUCK. I'm hit! I'm hit!"

John raised an eyebrow as a series of swears and moans echoed down the line, holding the handset away from his ear. "Hal, I'm not calling Oa. Sorry. Even Batman's kids don't constitute a sectoral emergency."

"YOU UNGRATEFUL BASTARD--"

"I'm hanging up now," Stewart informed him, "Look, I'll send Wonder Woman to check up on you, alright? Maybe you just need a break."

"DON'T YOU HANG UP ON ME STEWART I SWEAR TO GOD--"

* * *

"Alright, he's actively crying now," Bruce said, putting his phone down. He went back to cutting his steak, frowning slightly. "Think we should go back?"

Clark stared at him. "Uh...yes?"

"You wanted to wait for dessert, didn't you?"

"They have _apple pie_ creme brulee, Bruce," the reporter said, looking torn. "Hal can survive another twenty minutes, can't he?"

* * *

"Look, we have him right here," Tim said harshly, "If you don't upgrade my teleporter status in the next ten minutes, we're going to have problems."

He nudged Hal, who glared at him from behind the gag. His arms and legs were zip-tied securely to the chair. Everything, from his hair to his shoes, was caked in paint. Behind him, Jason was snapping selfies.

"I can't authorize teleporter privileges," Shayera said on the comm, sounding worried. "You guys aren't actually going to hurt him, are you?"

"I want my status _updated,_ " Tim said loudly, getting a snicker from Jason. "Teleport me up to the Watchtower, and we'll give you Hal."

"Well, I want proof he's alive first, alright?" Shayera said. "Send me a picture."

"Already uploaded," Jason said, nodding at Tim.

"To the Watchtower servers?"

"Nah," Jason smirked at Hal, "Twitter."

* * *

"Perimeter alert," Damian whispered into his microphone, dropping from the windowsill. "I can see Wonder Woman, over."

"Shit," Jason said over the line, "Okay, uh, is she going for the back?"

"Front door."

"Alright, you know what to do."

* * *

"Damian!" Diana said as the door opened, looking down at the twelve year-old. "How are you?"

Green eyes gazed up at her. "I'm doing well, Aunt Diana. And yourself?"

"I'm very busy, I'm afraid," she peeked her head past the doorway, looking around. "Where is everyone?"

"Father is away for business," Damian replied, gesturing her in. "Gray-- _Dick_ is at Barbara's, I believe. Jason and Tim are playing video games. Cassandra and Stephanie went...er...shopping."

"Wow, so you're home all alone?" Diana prompted, watching him carefully. "No supervision?"

"Hal Jordan came over to watch us," he replied, looking up at her innocently. "I think he left, though; said something about business on Oa?"

 _Sounds like Hal,_ Diana thought. "He just left you here?"

"I assured him I would be fine," Damian said smoothly, smiling up at her. _Hera,_ but he looked like Bruce for a moment. "Did you come here for something particular?..."

"Just checking in," she said, returning his smile. "I think you've got everything in hand, however."

"Tch."

"I really would like to see Hal, though," Diana said, watching his face freeze. "Do you think he'll be back soon?"

"Diana!"

She turned to see Hal enter the hall from the west wing, wearing a pair of sweatpants and a simple t-shirt. His hair was wet, like he'd just jumped out of the shower. "Hal. How's it going?"

"It's going...very well." Hal eyed Damian, his smile frozen across his face. "Did Stewart send you to check in on me?"

"He mentioned you might have your hands full," Diana said, her voice ringing with laughter. "I think Damian is behaving himself very well, however. You seem to have everything under control."

"Yes, totally...under...control…" Hal said slowly, locking gazes with her. "Everything's going...great."

* * *

"Hesitate again, and I shoot your balls off," Jason whispered into his earpiece. He watched Hal shiver, adjusting his aim from the staircase so the crosshairs were between his legs. "Tell her everything is fine, and that she can leave."

* * *

"Well," Diana said, smiling, "I have to get back to the Watchtower. It was nice seeing you, Hal! What a nice favor for Bruce."

"Thanks, Diana," Hal smiled, not looking at Damian. "Everything's fine, though, you can leave. Don't worry."

He choked out a laugh, which Diana quickly joined him in. She patted Damian on the shoulder a moment later.

"I'll see you later, Damian, alright?"

He smiled up at her, beatific. "Bye, Aunt Diana!"

As soon as she was out of sight, Hal exhaled, his heart racing.

"You really are demon spawn," he told Damian, "I can't believe she fell for that."

"I am _very_ convincing," the kid replied, looking over at Jason's position on the stairs. "Back downstairs. We haven't finished negotiations yet."

"Jesus _Christ_."

* * *

Bruce cracked open the backdoor, hesitating. Clark sighed from behind him, helping Alfred with the bags.

"We did three perimeter sweeps. At some point, you're going to have to just face the music and go inside."

"I'm not hesitating," Bruce insisted, getting a snort from Alfred. "Last time we left for groceries, Tim rigged--you know what, nevermind."

He opened the door and helped Alfred in, ears open. Clark snorted next to him.

"They're all in the Cave. Don't think they know we're here yet, if that helps."

Bruce sighed, hand going to his head. "Is Jordan alive?"

"...yes."

"You hesitated."

* * *

"The money will be deposited in your account in an hour," Tim informed Shayera, who snorted. "Thank you; it was a pleasure doing business with you."

"Some business," Hal snarked, "That was extortion."

"Yeah, like Timmy said, business," Jason said, kicking Hal's chair. The Green Lantern glared at him. "What? You don't look so thrilled, Jordan."

"Are you guys going to let me go anytime soon?" Hal asked quietly, looking at the Cave screen. "Just give me my ring back, I won't even say anything to Bruce, I swear."

"What Bruce doesn't know can't hurt him," Tim said, getting a nod from Jason and Damian. "You tell him we were absolute _angels,_ then we have a deal."

"The most perfect fucking angels," Hal exclaimed, wiggling in his bonds. "You were a fucking delight. Please, I just wanna go home."

"Shit," Jason said, tapping his comm. "Someone just came up the driveway. Mayday, mayday--"

"Alright," Tim pointed at Hal, "Here's what we're gonna do."

* * *

Bruce raised an eyebrow as he descended the stairs, the sound of snoring reaching his ears. The Cave's television was on, some sort of action cartoon displayed across the screen.

Tim, Damian and Jason were curled up on the couch, Hal Jordan lounging next to them. Tim was fast asleep, dangerously close to a dozing Damian. Jason was texting, his phone propped up on his chest.

"Well?" he asked Jordan, who looked at him with wide eyes.

"They were great!" the Lantern said enthusiastically, his smile only a little forced. "Absolute angels!"

Bruce grunted. "Really."

"Oh yeah," Jordan waved a hand dismissively, standing from the couch. "Also, ignore all those messages I left on your phone. Guess I'm not really cut out for babysitting. I guess I sort of, uh, panicked…"

Bruce stared at him for a moment. "What have you learned?"

"I will never, _ever_ ," Hal breathed deeply, " _ever_ take Batman's leftovers out of the JL fridge again. In fact, I'm never going to even _open_ a fridge ever again. Fridges are my kryptonite now, can't even go near 'em anymore--"

"Breathe," he told the Lantern, cutting him off. "Go home. I think you learned your lesson."

Jordan didn't even give him a second look, leaping for the stairs and sprinting for the door. Bruce sighed internally, looking at his remaining children.

"Damian, Tim, you can stop pretending to be asleep now."

The two blinked awake guiltily, looking up at him. Jason just smirked, still texting.

"Good job," he said, getting a surprised look from his sons. "Nice execution, good teamwork and use of resources. I'm proud of you."

Damian looked at Tim, grinning wide. "I _told_ you, Drake, he wouldn't be mad--"

"And I want you to start drafting your apology letters to Mr. Jordan immediately," Bruce interrupted, staring at his youngest. "All of you. I want them on my desk by tomorrow morning."

"What--"

"I--we--"

Jason stood, sending Bruce a dismissive glance. "I'm out of here. You can't make me do anything."

"Go ahead," Bruce replied, raising an eyebrow. "I'll still be getting my letter, one way or another."

"Uh huh," Jason said, rolling his eyes. "Peace out, old man."

Damian narrowed his eyes as Jason jumped on his bike, turning to Tim. "He has no sense of camaraderie."

"You're one to talk."

* * *

Hal collapsed on his bed, sore from head to toe. He pressed his phone closer to his ear, waiting for the answering machine tone.

"Hey Carol? Yeah, I'm not coming in tomorrow. Sorry, it's GL stuff. Also--Pretend I didn't call you earlier, okay? That wasn't me. I have no clue what happened. Kay, talk to you soon…"

* * *

Jason slid off his bike, swinging the keys to his apartment in one hand. He kicked the door open, throwing his helmet down on the couch.

His hand went to his holsters, undoing the straps. He slid them off his arms, throwing them across his only chair. He smirked as he saw the tips of the nerf guns sticking out from the leather.

 _Guess I need real guns for patrol,_ he thought to himself. With a sigh, he grabbed his keys and opened his closet, yanking out his safe. He spun the dial, mind already on autopilot as he opened the door.

A handful of nerf guns poured out of the safe, sliding into his arms. He felt his jaw drop, frantically looking inside. Every single gun had been replaced, even his machine guns. He opened a cartridge of bullets, only to find neon green darts.

" _Go ahead," Bruce replied, raising an eyebrow. "I'll still be getting my letter, one way or another."_

"Son of a _bitch_!"

* * *

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> Leave me a comment, and let me know what you thought!
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